Where Do We Go From Here?
by feedmetotheforest333
Summary: Set in an alternate storyline where Arthur never contracts TB. The gang still falls apart, and Arthur moves on. ArthurxOC Rated M for violence, language, and sexual situations.
1. Ch1

I saw John fall off the train, and I had no time to think, I just reacted. I calculated my jump, then dove from the train, trying to land as safely as possible. I hit the ground hard and rolled as far away from the train as I could. I struggled back to my feet and looked around.

"John?!" I called out, bullets whizzing by.

I ran and ducked behind a huge rock. I called out again, but I heard no reply. Suddenly there was a flash of white across my vision, then nothing.

After a while, my vision started to blur back in, and my head buzzed like a detuned radio. Through the static, my brain found a voice.

"Vela," it said, phasing into existence.

I realized I was moving, riding on a horse, being held up by someone.

"Vela, wake up," the voice said again.

It was a man's voice. It was John. John had me on a horse, one of the dead Pinkerton's horses, I imagined. I shook my head.

"John? I found you," I said, still trying to pull my head together.

He chuckled a little. "Well, I found you, I think. What happened to you? You okay?"

"I'm not sure. I saw you fall off the train, and I came to find you because no one else did. I saw Dutch tell the others to go on, but he didn't go back. He and Micah just ran," I said, running my hand over my head and locating a bump on the back. "One of the Pinkertons must have knocked me out and left me for dead."

"I appreciate you trying to find me. Abigail will appreciate it, too," John said.

He spurred the horse to a faster pace, and we hurried toward camp.

As we got closer, we could hear raised voices.

"This is gonna be bad," I said.

We got off the horse just down the hill from the camp, and John gave it a good slap and it darted off into the wild. Then he stormed with purpose toward the camp.

"Dutch!" John called out, cresting the hill just in front of me. "Dutch, you left me!"

As I followed him up, my eyes stopped on Arthur, who had his gun pointed at Micah, and Micah pointing his back.

"John?" Micah rhetorically questioned, stunned to see him again.

John stopped at the edge of the camp. "You left me to die!"

"I.. I didnt have a choice," Dutch said.

I followed right behind him, but I didnt stop with him at the edge of camp. I walked directly between Arthur and Micah and marched right up to Dutch. My rage overshadowed my better judgement.

"All this talk of loyalty, Dutch? Was this all part of your plan?!" I shouted. "All you ever wanted was money. We risked the skin on our backs for you! People died for you!"

I shoved him hard; the man was far larger than me, and he barely budged, but he got furious as I unrelentingly laid into him.

"Vela..." Arthur warned.

"You selfish prick! Everyone here could die and you wouldn't even flinch, so long as you had your money! Lenny, Kieran, Hosea-" I was cut off by another flash of white pain as Dutch's right hand shot out and connected with the right side of my face.

I fell back to the ground in a stunned silence, bringing my hand to my mouth, tasting blood. Sure enough, he split my lip open.

I stood up, fury rising alongside hurt and shock. This was not the same man I'd come to know over the last few months; we all saw it.

As I rose to my feet, John ran over to me.

"Dutch, have you lost your damn mind?!" Arthur shouted, gun still trained on Micah. "Vela, are you okay?"

"Fucking great.." I muttered, touching my mouth again and pulling back bloody fingers.

"All of you, pick your sides now, 'cause this is over," Arthur said, sadness that he couldn't hide seeping into the statement.

Dutch started to back away from us all. I spit a mouthful of blood on the ground he had been standing on, then John grabbed me and pulled me toward Arthur.

"All them years, Dutch.. For this snake?" Arthur grumbled.

"Oh, be quiet, cowpoke," Micah hissed. "Be quiet. You live in the clouds."

Mrs. Grimshaw stepped up next to Arthur, shotgun drawn and aimed at Micah.

"No," she said, defiantly. "You be quiet, Mr. Bell, and put down your gun."

I heard someone shout there were Pinkertons coming, and in that moment I watched Micah shoot Mrs. Grimshaw in the stomach. She cried out and fell to the ground; I ran to her side, but there was nothing I could do. I sat by her as she writhed, screaming in pain.

Dutch took the moment to brandish both his guns, pointing them wildly between us all. There was wildfire in his eyes.

"Now," he shouted. "-who amongst you is with me, and who is betrayin' me?!"

Bill and Javier slowly moved to Dutch's sides, along with Micah and his minions, pointing their guns in our direction.

"Bill, Javier... think for yourself," Arthur pleaded, never losing Micah in his gun's sights.

"He's lying," Micah hissed. "He's lying!"

Before our own firefight could break out, a voice hollered from the woods behind us: "Put your guns down!"

A shot rang out from the same direction. Pinkertons. Everyone that stood with Dutch ran toward the opposite side of camp from us, leaving John and Arthur and I to the Pinkertons as gunfire lit up the place. We quickly ducked into the caves, running fast but making sure we stayed together.

"I'll find you, Micah! I'll fucking find you!" I screamed across the camp, Arthur pulling me by the arm into the cave.

We ran hard through the darkness, twisting and turning through the tunnels, trying hard to lose our pursuers.

"Arthur, I know Abigail told you she knows where the money is. Should we take it on our way out?" John asked as we ran.

Arthur was silent for a moment as we started up a ladder.

"No," he said, finally. "As useful as it might be, I'm sure Dutch is going to come looking for it, and I don't want to give him any reason to come after you. I also don't think I want the reminder of it - of the fact that it meant more to him than we do."

We found our way out of the caves, followed by the shouting of the Pinkertons.

"Go, John. You run to your family, and you don't look back," Arthur said, shoving what cash he had in his satchel at him.

"Arthur, come with me. You can come with us," John pleaded.

Arthur looked at me, then back at John.

"I have things to do, John, and your family needs you. Maybe we'll meet again, brother," he said softly, putting his hand on John's shoulder.

John glanced at me, then back at Arthur, nodded, then he was gone.

"Come on, Vela. We've got to move," Arthur said, snapping back to a hurry.

We ran and ran, ducking and dodging, down the mountain and through the forest. We ran until we couldn't breathe anymore, and we ducked into an empty shack in the middle of the woods.

"Are we safe, Arthur? Do you think they'll find us?" I whispered, panicked.

"Just keep quiet and still, and hopefully they'll pass us by. We got a good head start through the caves, and I don't think they saw which way we went," he said quietly.

He slid closer to me and put his arm around me, and we waited.

I opened my eyes, waking up from apparently dozing off. The sun was now peeking through the cracks and holes of the shack. I was leaning fully onto Arthur, his arm still around me and my head on his shoulder. Arthur, ever vigilant, was still awake.

"Im sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

"Its fine," he replied gently. "It's been a long time. They're probably on the trail of Dutch and them, as there were more of them than us. Hopefully John got clear of 'em."

"I hope so," I agreed. "Think its safe for us to move?"

"I think it'd be a good idea," he said, standing up and offering me a hand.

I took it and stood to my feet.

"Arthur... I'm sorry for everything that's happened," I said, my gaze falling to the floor.

His rough hand came to my cheek, lifting my gaze to meet his pale blue eyes. "What's done is done. There's no going back now, and there's certainly no need for you to be sorry."

I could see the sadness behind his eyes, but I didn't say anything more. It was time to move on.


	2. Ch2

Arthur and I worked our way through the forest, heading north, following the road, but not on it.

After a while, we heard voices in the distance ahead of us, and we took cover behind some trees. Arthur pulled his binoculars from his bag and looked ahead.

"Looks like a raider camp. I only see a couple men. We can take their horses," he suggested.

"I'm all for it. My feet are killing me," I replied.

We quietly crept closer to the camp, then he pulled his rifle off his back and took aim. I followed suit, aiming at the other raider.

"Fire on my count," Arthur said.

I nodded. He counted, and we both fired, eliminating both raiders. We held our position for a moment, waiting for any other marauders to pop up, but none did, so we proceeded carefully into the camp. We found a few provisions, a small box of cash, and the two horses. We also took their tents and bedrolls. We packed the horses, then hopped on and continued riding north.

We rode for almost a full day before deciding to find somewhere to camp. We found a small clearing deep in the woods, far away from any roads, just as the sun was setting. We were much farther north than I'd been before, and it was slightly colder than we were prepared for. Arthur built a small fire as I set up the tents. When I finished, I came back toward the fire to find Arthur cooking some meat with a cigarette hanging from his lips. The food smelled delicious, and we hadn't eaten in days. I sat down on the ground beside him, and he passed me a small chunk of meat. I scarfed it down hungrily, so fast he chuckled and handed me another.

"Thanks," I said, sheepishly.

"Sure," he said softly, grinning.

He was quiet while we ate, and I had no doubt he was processing everything as we rested for the first time in weeks. It had been rough all the way up to the end with the gang, and he always carried the weight of the world on his broad shoulders. I was sad, but he was devastated. It wouldn't be like him to show it, though. I sat in silence with him by the fire, just trying to be a calm and comforting presence.

"I think I'm gonna retire to bed," he spoke up, after a bit.

"Probably a good idea," I said.

"Do you need anything? Will you be warm enough?" he asked.

"I think I should be okay," I said.

He nodded, stood, and headed toward his tent. "Good night."

"'Night," I replied.

I watched him walk to his tent, and as he disappeared into it, a fleeting thought of wanting to join him in his tent crossed my mind. I shook it away, thinking to myself how wrong that felt, seeing as he had just recently gotten that "Dear John" letter from Mary. He had told Tilly, and I had overheard the conversation. He deserved better than her, anyway; he shouldn't have to change for anyone. He was perfect the way he was - at least, I thought so.

I lingered at the fire just a bit longer, gazing at the stars, wondering where we'd end up, and if we'd stay together. I had no one else, now, same as him.

After a moment, I snuffed out the fire with dirt and retired to my own tent.

The next morning, I woke with the chirping of birds. I sat up and stretched, then poked my head out of the tent. There sat Arthur, next to a fire he had already built.

"Morning," he said, smiling at me.

"Hey. Sorry, I didn't mean to sleep so long," I said.

"Oh, its alright. I just couldn't sleep much, so I got up early. Breakfast?" he asked, offering me an oatcake.

"Sure," I answered, sitting next to him. "So, what now?"

"You know, all these years, Dutch has always had the plans. I'm not sure I'm so good at coming up with them myself," he said.

"I think you've been doing just fine so far," I said, gently nudging him with my elbow. "We're alive, ain't we?"

"Just about," he replied.

I nudged him again lightly, happily eating my breakfast. Even if we were on our own, this was the lightest and most stress-free I'd felt in weeks. I only now in hindsight realized just how long the group had been imploding. Arthur and John were the only men of the group I'd trusted at the end. I was thankful he had stuck with me this far.

"All I can think is we just keep heading north. If we go far enough, maybe even up in Canada, I don't think anyone will find us," he said, thinking aloud.

The continued use of "us" reassured me, and made me feel safe and happy.

"Sounds like a plan," I replied.

"Alright," he said, his blue eyes meeting mine.

They looked happier this morning than they had last night. He'd done a lot of thinking, and hopefully he worked through some things. He really was going to move on.

"Alright," I responded as we both stood to our feet.

He kicked out the fire, and we packed up camp to keep riding north. We kept mostly to the woods, still feeling a bit unsafe on the roads, and we only encountered a few more camps of raiders who were easily disposed of, looting their camps for supplies and quickly moving on. We rode through until the sun started to set again. In the dusk, Arthur spotted a place up ahead.

"Look, there's a cabin up there. It doesnt really look occupied. I don't see any lights or horses," he said.

He quietly clicked his tongue at his horse and headed toward the building. I followed, my hand resting on my pistol. We rode up to the front of the building, and he got off his horse.

"Wait here while I check inside," he said.

"Okay. Be careful," I said.

He gave me a nod, then proceeded cautiously into the cabin. I listened intently for any noise of concern, but heard nothing, and, after a moment, Arthur resurfaced.

"I think we're clear. Let's tie the horses up out back," he suggested.

I hopped down off my horse and lead her around back alongside Arthur and his horse. We tied them to a post out back, fed them a few handfuls of oats and carrots, and went inside.

There was a nice big fire place, a couch, an icebox, and a room with a mid-sized bed in it.

"You can have the room. I'll sleep on the couch so I can keep an eye out, in case anybody comes calling," Arthur said.

"Okay, uh, thanks," I replied. "Are you tired? I'm not tired yet. I thought maybe we could warm up by the fire a bit? Its a lot colder up this way than it was back home."

"Oh, sure. I'll build the fire," he said.

He built up the fire, and we ate some meat he cooked, sitting on the floor in front of the fire. We drank some Kentucky Bourbon from his satchel. This time we talked, about our childhoods, about where we came from, and about how we got where we are. We chuckled together about our stories, until he got to Dutch saving him, and joining the gang. About Dutch teaching him to read, and about Hosea teaching him to hunt and track. He got sad again, and I felt terrible.

"Arthur, I'm so sorry for everything-" I started.

"Look, I told you, there's nothing for you to be sorry about," he interrupted. "What's done is done. We just gotta keep the good memories, and let the other stuff go."

He lit a cigarette, took a drag, and sighed it out.

"I'm glad that we ended up here, together. At least we made it out, us and John. Maybe we'll run into the others again some day. I'll sure miss them, but I think that time in my life is over," he said, gazing into the fire.

I don't know if it was the liquor, or just something that I'd been stifling since this man saved me from being tied up on the back of that horse, but the way the cigarette dangled from his lips, and the way the firelight danced across his worn but handsome face - he took the cigarette from his lips with his fingers, and I leaned in and pressed my lips gently to his.

He pulled back, seemingly stunned, and I pulled back, ashamed.

"I'm sorry-" I started, but I was quickly stopped mid-sentence as Arthur leaned back in and kissed me hard, his hand on my neck, pulling me in.

Everything else was suddenly irrelevant as Arthur became my whole consciousness. He pulled me into him, and I straddled his lap, kicking over the bourbon. Neither of us picked it up. My heart beat so hard I thought it'd fly right out of my chest as he tangled a hand into my hair. My hands wrapped around his neck and shoulders, and his hands moved down my sides to my hips. The pressure of his hands on my hips sent me over the edge, and my primal instincts sent my hips grinding into his. His feverish pace, grinding back into me, matched mine in desperation, needing to be satisfied. I reached my hand down between us, and his breath hitched as I felt his hardness through his jeans.

"Its been a long time," he gasped between kisses.

"Me, too," I said, starting to unbutton his shirt.

He helped me fumble down the buttons, and he tossed it onto the couch. Then we moved to my shirt. I still couldn't believe it was happening, and so fast, but I wanted it so badly. His hands unbuttoned my last button, and he slid his hands across my shoulders, pushing my shirt to the floor. I unhooked my bra, and it joined my shirt. He brought his lips to my neck and kissed down it, his scruff tickling me lightly, kissing all the way down my chest, then cupping his hand around my breast and running his warm, wet tongue across my nipple. I shivered with pleasure, a soft moan escaping my throat. His grinding became more intense, and I reached down to his belt buckle.

Arthur sat up, and I wrapped my legs around him as he laid me on the rug in front of the fire place, placing himself on top of me. I undid the buckle, unfastened the button, and reached my hand into his jeans. His cock was hard as a rock, and I freed him from his pants, pushing them down with my feet. He unbuttoned mine and slid them down in the same moment. He kissed me deeply, my hands in his shaggy hair, as he caressed my body down to my hips, scooting further up between my legs. His eyes met mine, then travelled down my body as his hand slid between my legs. He then slid his fingers slowly into my dripping core.

"Oh, fuck, Arthur," I gasped, grabbing his hand with mine.

He growled a primal, deep growl in response as he came back up, kissing me hard, his fingers still sliding in and out of me; my legs pulled him instictively toward my body.

"Arthur.." I moaned into his ear, wrapping my arms around his strong shoulders and neck, grinding into his hand.

He buried his face in my neck, took his hand from inside me, and guided himself into me. A loud moan forced itself out of my throst. Arthur moaned lowly in my ear, pushing himself in up to the hilt. Slowly, he pulled out a little, then slowly pushed back in. I moaned again with every movement, and my core began to tighten around him. His slow pushes became eager thrusts, and I rocked my body back to meet him. Every thrust became accompanied by a low grunt from Arthur in my ear, and I wasn't going to last long.

"Oh, fuck, Arthur," I gasped out.

He propped himself up on his knees, fucking me hard now as I dug my nails into his thighs. My core tightened more and more, begging for a release. Arthur locked his piercing blue eyes on mine, pumped a few more times, and a wave of pleasure washed over me as I felt my insides release and shake. Arthur pulled out right after I relaxed a bit and finished himself on my stomach. I was glad he had the forethought to do that; the thought crossed my mind that was the last thing we needed right now.

Arthur leaned over and grabbed a throw blanket and helped me clean myself up, tossing to the side. He then leaned his back against the couch and picked his cigarette back up, relighting it and holding it loosely in his lips, breathing heavily. The firelight flickered across the sweat on his skin, and I already wanted more. I sat up and wrapped another blanket around myself, then leaned against Arthur. He put his arm around me, and we sat for a while, relaxing in the warm glow of the fire.


End file.
